


Figuring it Out

by FishEyenoMiko



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Christmas, Community: sherlockmas, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Family, Family Drama, M/M, Secret Santa, Sherlockmas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-06
Updated: 2014-01-06
Packaged: 2018-01-07 19:00:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,104
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1123257
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FishEyenoMiko/pseuds/FishEyenoMiko
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock and John visit the Holmes house for Christmas.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Figuring it Out

**Author's Note:**

> Beta: [AvatarMN](http://archiveofourown.org/users/AvatarMN)  
> This was written for jazzy_fay (kcsakura) on livejournal's [Sherlockmas 2013 Holiday Exchange](http://sherlockmas.livejournal.com/).

John looked out the window of the train. The sky was darkening and the rain was letting up; John hoped it would stop by the time they got to their destination. He was also hoping there would be snow at some point during their trip to the Holmes estate.

"There's a sixty percent chance of snow on the tomorrow," said Sherlock, showing John his weather app.

"Oh, snow on Christmas Eve," John observed. "Rather Currier and Ives, isn’t it?"

"Yes, I suppose..."

John smiled and decided to change topics.

"So, any idea how many people will there be?"

"You and I, my mother, and Mycroft's family."

"Mycroft... has a family?"

Sherlock just smiled.

"And his family consists of...?"

"You don't want to be surprised?"

John considered this.

"Let's put it this way," Sherlock continued, "there will fewer than ten of us."

John thought for a moment. "All that really tells me is that Mycroft's family consists of less than seven people."

"Take him and his... partner into account, that's less than five children."

"'Partner'? So he's--"

"I used that term to be vague," Sherlock said. "Don't read too much into it."

John nodded.

 

The ride from the train station was fairly long, but finally they drove through a large, ornate set of gates and down the lane to the house. The house was large, and while the style was old, it looked to be in good shape.

The car pulled under the covered drive. The driver got put and opened the door for them. Getting out, John headed to the trunk to get his suitcase out.

"Phelps will get those, John," said Sherlock who was headed toward the front steps.

"Oh... all right." John turned to Phelps. "Thanks."

With that, he followed Sherlock.

They entered the large foyer, then headed into a sitting room to the left. Waiting for them was a tall, dark-haired woman. She stood when they entered, walking up to Sherlock.

"Sherlock," she said, giving him a simple kiss on the cheek. "I'm so glad you came; it's lovely to see you again."

"And you too, Mother." Sherlock turned. "This is John."

"Hello, Mrs. Holmes."

"Please, call me Emily." She gave John a kiss on the cheek, as well.

"All right," said John with a smile. "Please call me John."

"Mycroft hasn’t gotten here yet?" asked Sherlock.

"No," Emily replied. "They're not arriving until late tonight."

"Pity..."

Emily sighed. "Sherlock, please try to get along with your brother while you're here..."

Sherlock just sighed with annoyance.

Emily let out a laugh and patted Sherlock's cheek.

"Well, your timing is impeccable," Emily said, "it's just about time for supper."

"Oh, good, I could do with a meal," said John, who'd been rushed out of 221B to get to the train on time.

As Emily led them through the house, she said, "Since it's just the three of us, I thought we'd just have supper at the kitchen table."

 

"So, John, you're a military doctor?"

"Uh, yes," said John.

Emily smiled. "I'm so glad. I was hoping my Sherlock would find a... partner who could take care of him. His job is so dangerous..."

Whatever else Emily said was lost on John, who was stuck on "partner". He looked over at Sherlock, who was suddenly very interested in his wine glass. John kicked him gently in the leg to get his attention. Sherlock responded with an expression somewhere between contrition and pleading.

"Yes, John is quite good at taking care of me," said Sherlock.

"He can be quite a handful, though," John replied. "Like a child, sometimes..."

Emily laughed and shook her head. When she looked down at her food, Sherlock gave John a glare. John just gave him a smug grin and kept on eating.

 

"Well," said Emily as she pushed herself away from the table, "that was a lovely supper." She turned to Sherlock. "I'm going to stay up and wait for your brother. Care to stay up with me?"

Sherlock got to his feet. "No. I've had a long day."

"We both have," said John, also getting up. "If you could show us to our rooms?"

 

Phelps led them to the second storey, to a corner room.

"Here's your room," he said, opening the door. Sherlock went in, but John turned to him.

"We're sharing a room?"

"Well of course. I assure you, Mrs. Holmes is quite progressive."

"Right... of course she is. Thanks."

Phelps nodded and left.

John walked up to Sherlock, who was unpacking. "You told your mum we're a couple?"

"No," said Sherlock defensively. After a pause, he added, "She _assumed_ we were, and I... didn't exactly correct her."

John shook his head. He looked around the room; it was a large yet homey-feeling bedroom. John wouldn't have minded it except for the fact that there was only one bed.

"Lovely..."

"Honestly, John, we're both adults. And it is a large bed."

John sighed. "Oh, Lord, give me strength."

"You've survived war and serial killers, John; I think you can manage sleeping a few nights in the same bed as me."

After changing in the bathroom, John came out and got into bed next to Sherlock. As he lay staring at the ceiling, John came up with a way to get Sherlock back for letting his mum think they were a couple, and getting them stuck in the same bedroom.

 

John awoke to a loud, firm knock on his--er, their--bedroom door. Grumbling, he walked over and opened it. Standing outside was a tall red-haired young woman with blue eyes. Even in his half-asleep state, John realised she must be Mycroft's daughter, thus making her Sherlock's niece. 

"Oh," she said in surprise, "I thought this was my uncle's room."

The girl appeared to be in her late teens; John decided she was old enough that a little innuendo was okay.

"You mean Sherlock? Yeah, this is... _our_ room," he said, leaning against the door jamb with a grin. "I'm John, by the way."

"I'm Mercia," said replied. "I think you've met my dad, Mycroft?"

"Oh, yes," said John.

She nodded. "Well, I just came to tell you that breakfast is in half an hour."

"Ah, okay, thanks." John turned and looked over his shoulder. "I'll get your uncle up and ready in time."

"All right. See you at breakfast."

"Yep," said John with a smile.

 

Leaving Sherlock to sleep, John went into the bathroom to shower. After dressing, he opened the door to the bedroom, giving a start when he nearly ran into Sherlock.

"Oh, good," John said. "Breakfast is in about ten minutes."

"Hmm," said Sherlock as he closed the door.

 

Fifteen minutes later, John knocked loudly on the bathroom door.

"Sherlock! We need to get a move on!"

The door opened, and Sherlock stuck his head out. "Relax, John, breakfast at the Holmeses is always later than they say it will be."

With that, he closed the door again. John just sighed.

 

Finally, Sherlock was done with his primping, and they headed down to breakfast. Contrary to what Sherlock had said, as they entered the dining room, John saw that there were people sitting at the table eating breakfast.

John didn't forget his scheme, though; as soon as they came into view, John took Sherlock's arm, leading him into the room with them arm-in-arm.

"I'm so sorry we’re late," he said as he headed to the two empty chairs meant for them. "He can be _so_ hard to get out of bed some mornings..."

John gave a smile and kissed Sherlock on the cheek. Sherlock gave a start, and, out of the corner of his eye, John saw Mycroft nearly do a spit-take with his coffee.

As they sat down, John looked at the others at the table. There was Mrs. Holmes and Mycroft, of course, and the young woman John had met this morning. But there was also a red-haired woman and a dark-haired boy. 

Mycroft had been eyeing John since the kiss; nevertheless, he finally smiled with at least feigned politeness.

"Good morning, John," said Mycroft. "It's good to see you again."

"Hello," John replied.

Mycroft indicated the woman sitting next to him. "This is my wife, Anna. And this is our daughter Mercia and our son Aloysius." Turning to his family, Mycroft continued, "This is John, Sherlock's... boyfriend."

"It's nice to meet you," John said, smiling at the three of them.

"It's wonderful to finally meet you," said Anna cheerfully. "I've heard so much about you in the press and on your blog, so it's finally nice to see you in person!"

"Thanks," said John. "It's lovely to meet you as well."

Sherlock had started to fill his plate. He started reaching across John to reach a plate of sausage, prompting John to give him a look.

"Excuse you."

Sherlock sighed. "Pass the sausage."

John smiled and picked up the sausage. "Of course, dear," he said, smiling sweetly.

Sherlock gave John a puzzled look, but John just kept smiling.

Shaking his head, Sherlock took the plate and got himself a sausage.

"Only one?" asked John. "You should have a few more, sweetie, you could do with a little fattening up." As he said this, he playfully patted Sherlock's stomach.

Sherlock gave him a surprised look. After a moment, he took another sausage, then set the plate down.

"Thanks, dear," said John with a smile.

 

"So," said Emily as the meal was winding down, "I thought after breakfast, we'd decorate the tree."

"Yay!" said Aloysius.

"I'll do the fairy lights," said Mercia. She sounded less than enthused; John suspected she volunteered for a specific task to get out of having to do anything else.

Emily smiled. "Thank you." 

"Dammit," Sherlock. The look he was giving Mercia suggested she had taken his idea.

"Language, Sherlock," chided Mycroft. 

"Aw, come on, sweetie," said John, resting a hand on his arm and giving him a sappy look, "I think it'll a lot of fun."

"Joy."

 

Phelps had left for his Christmas break so John helped Emily, Anna, and Aloysius clean up after breakfast. Then they went into the family room to decorate the tree.

 

It was nice, tall tree, already in a stand. Emily had also gotten the decorations out and set them on a long coffee table for the group to put on the tree. Mercia put on the fairy lights, and Mycroft did the garland, leaving the rest up to the others. Aloysius and his mother were quite gleeful as they decorated the tree, and John couldn't help but be cheerful along with them. Emily mostly directed, and Sherlock worked slowly, using meticulousness as an excuse to do less work.

"Mother," said Sherlock as he took his time picking out his next bauble to put up, "Where are our decorations? You know the... um..." he seemed reluctant to describe them.

Emily smiled. "I'll get them in a moment, dear. I wanted the rest to get put on first. I like to leave them for last."

"Ah," said Sherlock as he took his sweet time getting over to the tree to put up the decoration he'd picked.

"Honestly, Sherlock..." said John.

"Quality over quantity, John."

John just sighed.

 

As the last of the ornaments were being put on, Emily left, no doubt to go get the decorations Sherlock had mentioned early. She came back with a box which she set on the coffee table. Everyone gathered around as she opened it. Inside the box were four ornaments. They were teddy bears made of plaster. The bears were tan, and had coloured scarves with the names of Emily's sons and grandchildren. Mycroft's was orange, Sherlock's was purple, Mercia's was black, and Aloysius' was green.

"Oh, those are nice," said John as Emily hung them up.

"Thanks." Emily smiled at him. "Maybe if you and Sherlock adopt, I'll make one for your kids."

"You made these?"

Emily smiled. "Yeah."

"Nice!" John smiled at Sherlock. "I admit, that is something of an incentive..."

"You're joking," Sherlock said, clearly surprised.

"I don’t know," said Mycroft with a grin. "You and John would make lovely parents."

John coughed to hide his laughter.

Sherlock turned to his mother.

"Are we done here?"

Emily smiled and walked up to him, kissing him on the cheek.

"Yes, you can go. Thank you for helping." 

He gave her a nod, then left.

Emily turned to her other son. "Mycroft, you really shouldn’t needle him so."

"Yes, mum," said Mycroft contritely.

John was concerned; he'd meant to tweak Sherlock a bit, but hadn't counted on Mycroft getting in on it.

"Well, this was fun," John said. "Do you have anything else planned?"

"Not until supper," said Emily.

"Oh," said John. "Not lunch?"

"No, lunch is a pretty casual affair," said Emily. "Everyone pretty much eats when they feel like it. So we all pretty much fend for ourselves." She looked thoughtful. "Though with you being a guest..."

"No, it's all right," replied John. "I know where the kitchen is, I can manage."

"All right," said Emily. "And thank you, John."

John just smiled and headed to his bedroom.

 

Sherlock was sitting on the bed reading. As soon as John entered, he looked over the edge of the book.

"What are you up to?"

"What do you mean?" asked John as he looked through his bag to get out of a book.

"'Dear'? 'Sweetie'? What's all that about?"

"It was _your_ idea to let your mum think we were 'together'."

Sherlock looked thoughtful for a minute.

"You're angry about that?"

"We're stuck sharing a room; sharing a _bed_ , and..." John sighed. "I don't understand _why_ you felt the need to let her think we more than friends."

"Ah... yes, I see. People regard romantic relationships differently than 'just friends'. Despite overwhelming evidence to the contrary, people seem to think that romantic relationships are more meaningful, and last longer, than mere friendships."

John sat on the edge of the bed. "You... let your mum think we're a couple because then she would assume you'd have someone to take care of you, whereas if we just friends... maybe not so much?"

Sherlock gave John the relieved look he had when John finally got his point. "Yes."

John nodded. "Yeah, okay."

After a moment, Sherlock went back to his book. Scooting over to sit next to him, John began reading his book, as well.

 

John came into the kitchen to make lunch. Mycroft was there, sitting at the table enjoying his own lunch.

"Hullo," said John as he got sandwich-makings out of the fridge.

"John," said Mycroft in an annoyed tone.

"Problem?"

Mycroft turned to Sherlock.

"I don't appreciate you lying to Mummy."

"I don't know what you mean," said John.

Mycroft rolled his eyes. He got up, picking up his plate.

"I'm going to go eat in my room." With that, he left.

John sighed. He wasn't really surprised Mycroft knew. The question was, would he do anything about it? 

 

John and Sherlock dressed for supper. Sherlock had forbidden him from bringing his Christmas jumpers, so John settled for a red shirt with green stitching. Sherlock changed into a nicely tailored green shirt.

"Don't you two look lovely," Emily said as they entered the dining room. 

"Thanks," said John. Sherlock just "hmm"ed.

"Yes, what a charming... couple," said Mycroft.

John shot Mycroft a look as he sat down. Mycroft just smiled back.

 

As they were eating dessert, John turned to Emily.

"So, what are the plans for Christmas?"

"Well," Emily said, "we get up early and have breakfast, then open presents. We have lunch around one or so, and then just visit for the rest of the day.

John nodded. "Sounds good."

As he was eating his pie, John looked up and noticed Mycroft giving him a sly look.

"What?"

"Look up."

John did so, and saw that there was a sprig of mistletoe taped to the ceiling above Sherlock.

"What can I say," Mycroft said, "I thought we could do with a bit of romance. Besides..." he looked up over Anna's head, and John noted that there was a sprig of mistletoe over her head, as well.

"Mycroft!" said Anna, blushing.

Smiling, Mycroft leaned over, gently taking ahold of her chin and kissing her.

"Da~ad..." moaned Aloysius, making a face.

"Honestly, Al," Mercia replied, "you're not a twelve-year old..."

"That doesn't mean I want to see my parents making out!"

"I'd hardly call that 'making out'."

"All right, kids, that's enough," said Anna.

"So?" said Mycroft, looking directly at John.

"Oh, Mycroft," said Emily, "don't embarrass them."

"But, mother it's _traditional_."

John decided he'd give Mycroft "traditional". Turning to Sherlock, he took the detective's face in his hands. Sherlock eyes widened with shock and realisation. But he held still as John leaned in, giving him a slow, chaste kiss.

Sitting back, John took a breath. His heart was racing and his face was hot. He wasn't sure if it was embarrassment or... something else. Looking around, he saw that Mycroft was understandably surprised. He couldn't resist grinning.

"Well," said John, as if nothing had happened. "I think I'll help clean up," he said, getting up and gathering the dessert plates to take them to the kitchen.

 

As they were cleaning up, Aloysius, who'd left the dining room, ran back in. He was in a coat, and his dark hair was slightly wet.

"It's snowing!"

With that, he ran back out.

"Oh!" Anna set down the dishes she'd just picked up. "The cleaning up can wait, let's go outside!"

John smiled. "Sure!"

John went to his bedroom. Sherlock was sitting at the table reading.

"It's snowing," said John as he got his coat and gloves. "Wanna come outside with us?"

Checking the page number on his book--he never needed bookmarks--Sherlock got up. John got Sherlock's coat and scarf for him. He knew the gloves were in one of the pockets.

 

They went outside, where the others were playing in the snow. There wasn't much of it, but Anna and Aloysius where having fun anyway. Mercia was just standing and looking up at the falling snow. Mycroft and Emily were sitting on the porch watching the others.

Sherlock walked out and stood near Mercia. John walked up, watching Sherlock. He was a dark figure, with his black coat and dark hair. There were snowflakes falling on his face and hair. The sight was mesmerizing.

Sherlock turned to him.

"John?"

"Hmmm?"

Sherlock gave John a puzzled look. John just smiled.

"John," said Emily, "there's not enough snow to make _much_ of a snowman, but Al and I thought we’d make a little one. Want to join us?"

"Sure," said John walking over to the small pile of snow Emily and Aloysius were using to make their snowman.

 

It was fairly late when they finally went back in, but John finished cleaning up the supper dishes. Then he went to his room to get ready for bed. Sherlock was already in bed. He was lying on his side, facing the room. But John was pretty sure he was asleep. So he changed right there in their bedroom.

He got into bed. He hadn't lain there long when he realised something.

"I know you're not asleep, Sherlock."

"I... didn't mean to look. On the other hand, I didn't imagine you'd change right here."

John shrugged. "I've changed in front of people before. Not a big deal."

Even as he said it, though, he found himself imagining Sherlock watching him undress... He closed his eyes, taking a breath. Something occurred to him.

"Look, Sherlock, I'm sorry about... about the kiss. I didn't-"

"It's fine, John. Mycroft put you on the spot."

John nodded.

There was a pause. Suddenly Sherlock's watch, which was resting on his night stand, went off.

"It's past midnight," Sherlock announced. He smiled. "Happy Christmas John."

John smiled back. "Happy Christmas, Sherlock."

 

There was a loud knocking on their door. 

"Wake up! It's Christmas!" came Aloysius' voice.

Sherlock sat up, casting an annoyed look at the door. "We're up! Go away!"

John laughed. Nonetheless, he got up, stretching as he got out of bed. With a grumble, Sherlock followed suit.

 

Breakfast was a small, somewhat rushed affair. Not surprising, given that they were going to have a large dinner, and everyone wanted to get to the presents. 

 

The gift exchange was fun. John had only gotten a present for Sherlock, and only got gift from Sherlock and Mycroft, but he enjoyed watching the Holmeses opening their presents.

 

They began working on making Christmas dinner. John even managed to rope Sherlock into peeling potatoes, while he himself chopped vegetables and generally helped with various tasks.

All the hard work they'd done paid off; Christmas dinner was wonderful, and everyone stuffed themselves full of turkey and potatoes and stuffing and vegetables. Even Sherlock ate a surprisingly large amount, much to both his mother and John's delight.

 

After dinner, they cleaned up, then went into the living room. Sherlock sat down on a couch, and John sat next to him. Without really thinking about it, John sat next to Sherlock, then leaning against him. Mycroft looked puzzled, but Emily smiled.

"This has been a wonderful Christmas," said Anna.

"Indeed," Emily agreed. "Thank you all for being so helpful."

"No problem, mother," said Mycroft.

"And John," Emily continued, "if we do this again next year, I'll make sure you have more gifts to open."

"Oh, it's fine," said John. "I'm having a good time."

"I see that," said Emily, looking at Sherlock and him with a smile.

 

About mid-afternoon, John decided to take a walk. He was looking around the grounds when he encountered Mrs. Holmes, who was sitting at a table on a side porch drinking coffee.

"Emily," he said.

She smiled. Then she indicated the other chair. "Please, sit."

There was something about her tone that made John wary.

"Something wrong, Emily?"

"Sherlock led me to believe you and he were a couple. Yesterday, I had my doubts, but now I see I was wrong."

John blinked in surprise. Emily had somehow guessed he and Sherlock weren't together, and yet now she thought they were... and John realised he could see why.

"Emily, I assure you, I care deeply about Sherlock."

Emily smiled. "I’m glad."

 

That evening after supper, everyone sat in the dining room eating pie and drinking coffee, except Aloysius, who had milk.

"So," said Mycroft, "we're leaving on an early train tomorrow. So perhaps we should say our goodbyes to Sherlock and John, so they don't have to get up to see us off in the morning."

Completely deadpan, Sherlock looked Mycroft in eyes. "Goodbye, Mycroft."

Mycroft just gave him a sour look.

"Well," said John, "I'm glad to have met you all. Maybe we can do this again. And not wait three years this time."

"Maybe at your wedding?" said Anna.

"Oh, that'd be lovely," said Mycroft with a smirk.

"I agree, John," said Emily, "we really should get together more often."

To his credit, Sherlock just rolled his eyes instead of saying anything aloud.

 

Sherlock came out of the bathroom in his pyjamas. He sat on the edge of the bed looking thoughtful.

"What's on your mind, Sherlock?" John asked as he packed.

"I... I wouldn’t mind coming to see my mother a bit more often."

John sat next to Sherlock, smiling. "Just, not with Mycroft and his family."

"I don't mind Mercia so much."

John laughed.

"Well," said John, "nothing says we can't come to visit, just the two of us."

Sherlock smiled.

 

The next morning John finished packing, and put their luggage near the door. Phelps was still on vacation, so Emily hired a car service to take John and Sherlock to the train station. The car was scheduled to arrive at about eleven.

Sherlock's mom had eaten breakfast with Mycroft and his family before they left, but she had some tea and toast with John and Sherlock while they had breakfast.

 

The car arrived at precisely eleven A.M.

"Well, I hope you two have a good trip," said Emily as she hugged Sherlock.

"Goodbye, mother," Sherlock replied. "It was good to see you again."

"Call me when you get home, all right?" she said to John as she hugged him.

"I will, Emily."

 

Finally, John and Sherlock where on their way to the train station.

"My mother still thinks we're a couple."

"Yeah."

There a pause. Then: "Are we, John?"

John looked at Sherlock for a moment. "I'm not sure." He smiled. "I look forward to figuring out."


End file.
